


Extended Stay

by LaughableLament



Series: Supernatural Poetry Month [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: spnapo, Gen, Monologue, Motel life, POV Dean Winchester, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 09:08:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6651679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughableLament/pseuds/LaughableLament
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two growin boys gotta eat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Extended Stay

This one winter  
Dad set us up in one of  
those, extended stay outfits.  
Nothin nice, y’know, not  
especially clean. Real  
down-on-your-luck  
kinda place, but it had a  
full stove and a fridge  
instead of like, a  
hotplate and a plug-in cooler,  
so…

Anyway, places like this, you  
get to know people  
a little, comin and goin,  
waitin for the  
brokeass ice machine.  
’Cross the way was this girl named  
Vicki. And Vicki’d…  
well, she’d lost her  
husband, kid, everything.

House fire.

She was skin and bones.  
And she never talked  
much but one day she was  
smokin on the steps when  
I went by and she says,  
“Hey, kid.”

And I’m like,  
“Yeah.”

And she looks me over and says,  
“I want you to come with me for groceries.”  
Now, what she meant was this  
food pantry run by a church.  
“They let mothers with kids to the front of the line.  
You can have whatever extra I get.”

And of course—oughta be  
ashamed to admit, at that age,  
but—I already knew how to  
spot a hustle. So. I’m all,  
“Lemme bring my little brother.  
Get food for three and split it 50-50.”

Anyway, yeah. We ate  
better that coupla months  
than I could ever remember.  
Soup and cereal.  
Peanut butter.  
Beans and rice.  
Freed up what  
cash Dad left  
for like,  
Pop Tarts and shit.  
Real milk.  
One time I got sacks of  
flour and sugar  
and we ate  
nothin but cake  
for a week and a half.

So, I started  
keepin a lookout.  
Single women, harmless.  
Addicts, a lot of em, right outta  
jail or rehab. Lot of em with  
kids in the system.

God you shoulda seen me:  
“Um, excuse me, Miss…”  
Sammy like, right beside me  
giving her the full-on  
Little Orphan Annie.  
“We need a ride to the food bank.  
They’ll feed us for three and-uh…”

You feel me.

Oh, Dad? Hell. I don’t  
even know if he ever knew. Never  
said anything, either way. Anyway.  
I was just… doin what I had to do,  
y’know,  
so…

But yeah. That’s, uh…  
That’s when I first  
took up cookin.

**Author's Note:**

> My pal crowroad wrote Sam's response to this, [here](http://spnapo.livejournal.com/15921.html). Please go read. You don't want to miss it!


End file.
